


The Flyer

by terma_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-06-01
Updated: 1999-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist
Summary: Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atTER/MAand was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address onthe TER/MA collection profile.TER/MA June 1999 Challenge. This month, I am getting so many wonderful new suggestions, I have decided to post two challenges at once. You may respond to either or both (or neither, of course). As usual there is no limit on length or deadline for posting. --- The Second Challenge—1001 Alexian Nights: This one is Dr Ruthless' brain child. We are hoping for a series of stories along the lines of Arabian Nights, can be AU, where the slaveboy, Alex, seeks to postpone his fate at the hands of his master, Fox, by telling him stories.
Relationships: Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder
Collections: TER/MA





	The Flyer

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [TER/MA](https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the TER/MA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile).  
> TER/MA June 1999 Challenge. This month, I am getting so many wonderful new suggestions, I have decided to post two challenges at once. You may respond to either or both (or neither, of course). As usual there is no limit on length or deadline for posting. --- The Second Challenge—1001 Alexian Nights: This one is Dr Ruthless' brain child. We are hoping for a series of stories along the lines of Arabian Nights, can be AU, where the slaveboy, Alex, seeks to postpone his fate at the hands of his master, Fox, by telling him stories.

  
**The Flyer  
by Hiro**

  
There once, a long time ago, was a young man named Fox. He lived in the city of Agell where his father had also lived. Fox was a promising scholar and pleasing to his teachers. The city elders smiled on the young man and hoped he would one day follow in his father's footsteps. Fox, in his turn, enjoyed his studies and loved his city. He most loved to study the history of his city which he found beautiful, for Agell had been founded by an angel and guided in its early days by the heavenly host. Young Fox often dreamed how beautiful and happy life could be if the angels remembered them once more. 

More and more often, Fox thought of the angels until one day he determined he would make a pilgrimage to far off Mount Bria. On the mountain top, he meditated and fasted for three days and three nights. And as he returned, he gathered every feather he found on the road to Agell. When he reached the gates of that great city, his donkey carried three sacks full of feathers. Feathers of sparrows, feathers of doves, feathers of ravens, feathers of gulls, feathers of eagles, in fact, feathers of all birds. 

In the city, Fox bought an old basket-maker's workshop. Here he began working on constructing a great set of wings from all the feathers he had gathered. He began work at first light on each morning and often worked late into the night by candle light. He worked on the wings for nearly a year before he took them outside the city to test them. 

He slipped on his wings and immediately felt light on his feet. He started running across the meadow and let out a whoop of joy as he felt his feet lift off from the ground. He swooped back and forth over the small field, elated by his success. But he could fly no higher than the highest houses in Agell, so he knew he had much work yet to do. 

That night, Fox went out and celebrated with many of his friends. He told them of his success over bottles of wine while they laughed and saluted him. In the morning, Fox returned to work on his wings. Meanwhile, however, word of his feat had reached the ears of the city elders. 

"Our people are honest and hard working," they said. "But we are strong because we are tied to the ground. Fox will have people looking to the heavens. This is dangerous to them and to us. Perhaps," they thought, "we can turn his sight from the angels." 

The merchant Nigel Dalaboor said, "I have a niece who lives in the city. She has dark hair and eyes like her mother, my sister. She is very lovely, and fond enough of the boy." 

Nisa approached Fox one evening as he walked home from his workshop. She wore a beautiful dress that her uncle had bought for her to wear. 

"Fox, Fox! The night is beautiful. Look at the stars over head! You can't just go home on a night like this. Why don't we go dancing?" 

But Fox said, "I'm sorry. I have to get up very early tomorrow. Thank you very much for inviting me though." 

The next afternoon, Nisa tried again, arriving at Fox's workshop. 

"All these beautiful things," she said. "But you can't spend all your time here! There is plenty of time for work and plenty of time for pleasure both." 

"I will have plenty of time for enjoyment once my tasks are complete," Fox told her. Finally, Nisa went to the elders in defeat. 

"I'm sorry, Uncle," she said. "He just doesn't show any interest in me." 

The elders dismissed Nisa, swearing her to secrecy. Elder Harrison, who owned the finest orchards of the region, said, "Perhaps he prefers girls who are of fair skin and hair. My own daughter, Anne, who has always liked Fox, is as fair as a summer's day. Perhaps she can take his mind off of his impetuous pursuits." 

Anne was not only beautiful, but she was also an excellent cook. That afternoon, she arrived with a fine lunch of smoked lamb sandwiches and fresh-cut fruit. Fox thanked her kindly, but then asked her to leave as he had much work to do. In fact, he worked all through the night and into the next day. When he arrived home that night, he found that Anne had cleaned his house and cooked dinner for him. He ate with her politely but when the meal was over, he saw her to the door. 

Eventually, Anne went sadly to her father to report her failure. Defeated, the elders decided to leave young Fox alone and wait to see what developed. 

Fox continued to work hard, and in another week, he was ready to test his wings again. This time, hundreds of people followed him out of the city. They cheered wildly as he flew up into the sky. He flew all the way up to the clouds but could go no higher. He was flushed with excitement as he came back to the earth. He headed back to his workshop amongst many congratulations. 

The city elders hurried to meet together. "It is as we feared. People are leaving their work and their lives to gaze at the heavens. What will become of our crops? Our trade?" 

Finally, Smenot, a military commander who until that very day had been campaigning abroad, said, "So he did not take interest in a woman of fair hair or dark? Perhaps women do not interest him at all." 

All the elders turned to Smenot to listen. They did not like him, but he was smart and he was devious so they wished to hear what he had to say. 

"Perhaps we should send a young man to distract him. All young men need...friends. There is a young servant in my house who would play the part well. While Fox is preoccupied, we can put an end to this nonsense." 

And so Alex, of Smenot's household, was instructed to keep Fox from his work. Smenot promised Alex high position if he succeeded, but warned failure would see Alex spending the rest of his days in the kitchens. Alex told Smenot he needed three things to complete the task. 

He asked for a ladder, permission to borrow one of the kitchen brats, and a beautiful white and silver cloak that belonged to Smenot's mistress. 

That very evening, Alex climbed onto the roof of Fox's home. Once he was safely on top, he signaled for the kitchen boy to take the ladder away. He slipped on the white cloak and stood regally at the edge of the roof. He stood with his back to the moon so that the silver light shown around him. There he waited until Fox came out onto the roof as he was want to do. 

"Fox," Alex called out softly. 

Fox turned, and saw the glowing figure that appeared to have just landed on his roof. 

"We have watched you for some time. You have sought us faithfully for long months now. I have decided to come down and meet you." 

"You are an angel?" 

"Yes," Alex answered. 

Alex then stepped away from the edge and took Fox's hand. They sat on the roof top and talked late into the night. 

"You don't have wings?" Fox asked at one point. 

"Angels don't need wings to fly," Alex answered, and Fox believed this, too. 

Finally, just before dawn was dawning, Alex took Fox's hand and led him down into the house. 

"We angels also communicate through touch," he told him. "There is much that can pass between two beings through touch." 

And so they spent the night: Alex teaching Fox how angels speak, Fox discovering that the angels were indeed sweet. 

Alex explained to Fox that only the most committed could bear to see the face of an angel, so Alex remained in Fox's home. They spent their days together and watched three full moons come and go from the roof of the house. As the time passed, Alex found his heart growing softer and softer toward Fox. In the beginning, he had been glad to take such a beautiful lover to bed. But as the days went by he began to think more and more of Fox's intelligence and gentleness. He could almost forget how he had come to be so blessed, and when three months passed and Alex heard no word from Smenot, he told himself that the old man must have forgotten about him. 

And Alex came to believe that if anyone could reach the angels it was Fox. One day he said, "Won't you take me to your workshop so that I may see these wings that I know you have made?" 

Fox smiled in surprise, having all but forgotten his wings. But he gladly took Alex to his workshop that very night. Upon opening the door they smelled old ashes. Pushing further inside they found that the tables and workbenches and notes and Fox's precious wings had been burnt to cinder. Only the ash of many feathers remained. 

Alex gasped when he saw the wreckage. "Smenot must fear you very much to do this," he said. 

Fox cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?" 

Anguished, Alex confessed everything to his lover. Fox sat down hard upon the filthy floor, dropping his head into his hands. He did not say anything. He sat so still that Alex began to worry. 

Alex knelt down behind Fox, wrapping his arms around the strong shoulders of the scholar, holding him tight. His tears fell, dropping down to rest in his lover's hair. 

"Please, Fox," he said. "I have never been so happy as when I am with you. I love you. 

Everything is going to be all right. You'll see." 

Alex paused where he had been gently stroking Fox's hair when the head in his arms lifted slightly. He strained to hear Fox's quiet words. 

"Once, when I was a foolish young boy, I thought I saw an angel. But it was only a dream." 

"We can build new wings, you and I together. You'll reach the heavens. I know you will." 

"There are no angels in heaven," Fox said. "I will not rebuild the wings." He stood slowly. "You must go now. Your work here is complete." 

"Fox..." 

"Go. Please." 

Alex had no choice but to go, but he couldn't resist looking back. Fox, standing in the moonlight with ashes in his hair and on his face, had never looked so beautiful as now when Alex would never touch him again. 

* * *

Krycek finished his story, shivering in the cold Tunguska night. "There, I've finished. Now it's your turn." 

Mulder stared at him for a long time. 

"Your turn," Krycek prompted. 

"Why did you tell me that story?" 

Krycek sighed softly, looking away. "Maybe I wanted you to know how I feel. To say I am sorry. I don't know. It's a cold night." 

Mulder reached a hand from under his blanket to pat Krycek's knee. 

"Thank you," he said. 

Krycek smiled a little, tilting his head in question. 

"For telling that story," Mulder clarified. 

Krycek watched him yawn sleepily. Moving from under his end of the blanket, Krycek stood up and stretched, his joints creaking from the cold. Mulder yawned again, hardly noticing when Krycek tucked the blanket more tightly around him. As Krycek began to turn away, Mulder murmured: "Maybe we'll talk more in the morning...?" 

"Sure." 

Leaning against the wall, a few paces away, he watched Mulder drop off to sleep. Krycek looked away. He knew that he was about to break Mulder's wings again. He shivered, looking into the darkness. Quietly, he whispered his confession to himself. 

"There are no angels in heaven, Fox." 

* * *

DISCLAIMER: Fox and Alex belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. The basic concept for this story comes from elsewhere, too. It's from a story I once heard. Though I remember it down to details, I can't seem to remember whose it is at the moment, so it will have to go unaccredited for now.   
---


End file.
